


"so, will you marry me?"

by sevenzeroseven



Category: Code Geass
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 23:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14579679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenzeroseven/pseuds/sevenzeroseven
Summary: "The brilliant Lelouch vi Britannia, known for his tactical genius, couldn’t think things through before telling his family he was engaged?”“Shut up,” he snapped, almost reflexive, as he dropped the polite pretense altogether. “I’m here asking for your help, aren’t I?”





	"so, will you marry me?"

C.C.’s unamused glare was a blatant invitation to explain further which, admittedly, Lelouch wasn’t inclined to do. He shifted in his seat and tried to distract from how  _uncomfortable_ he was by taking a scalding sip of espresso. It didn’t do much except burn his tongue and make the ordeal that much worse. Fortunately, C.C. seemed to have figured it out by the time he cleared his throat. 

“So." 

He didn’t think a person could be so condescending in a single word, but as he was always learning, C.C. was full of surprises. His terse smile wasn’t much of a comeback; it wasn’t a comeback _at all_ , but given he was asking for a favor, his options for offending the witch were limited. Nonexistent. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Lelouch was painfully aware of that at the moment. 

"The brilliant Lelouch vi Britannia, known for his tactical genius, couldn’t think things through before telling his family he was engaged?”

“Shut up,” he snapped, almost reflexive, as he dropped the polite pretense altogether. “I’m here asking for your help, aren’t I?”

C.C. tilted her head to the side with a quiet, skeptical hum as if challenging him on the matter, but he didn’t get to push further before she interrupted again. “Why not ask Shirley?”

“Suzaku advised against it.”

 _That_  seemed to pique her interest, raising her head from the palm of her hand where she’d been watching him with those infuriating yellow eyes. Her eyebrow quirked up and practically oozed smug curiosity. “And he told you to come to me? What was his reasoning there?”

Lelouch shrugged. “He said you wouldn’t develop feelings for me.” He paused, wondered whether it was wise to continue, then did against his better judgement. “Rivalz said you were ‘immune to my charms.’”

C.C. laughed, and Lelouch found his eyes jumping from the table to her face in surprise. “Oh, please. What charms?”

Lelouch couldn’t help bristling despite the obvious teasing nature of the question, despite the fact he hardly ever saw her laugh and a part of him inexplicably warmed whenever she did. He decided not to deign a reply, opting instead to drum his fingers along the granite as he waited for her to come down from her small fit. And she did soon enough, brushing aside a lock of green hair that'd fallen across her cheek while she was rocking in her chair with mockery. 

“What about when everyone actually expects us to marry?” The amused murmur belied how coldly she’d initially received the idea, and there was a glimmer of  _hope_ , a light at the end of this dark tunnel they called marital expectations. Persistent,  _nagging_ expectations. He was obviously growing impatient, but the faint smile never left her lips as the first two fingers of her left hand curled around the handle of her mug. She was slow bringing it to her mouth, quick to add, “What do you plan to do then?”

“I’m working on it.”

“So you’re winging it,” she scoffed, always keen to point out the flaws in his plans, and took a sip. “That’s rare.”

Lelouch narrowed his eyes at the girl, weighing whether it was worth pursuing the topic anymore, but she wasn’t saying no, so. “Look.” He leaned forward, lowered his voice, and tried to get her to take him  _seriously_  even as she crossed her legs and looked like she was doing anything but. “It’s my mother’s birthday. She says if my—my  _fiancée_ ," he sputtered, "can’t come see her, then she and the rest are flying over to see us, so are you going to help me or not?”

The pause this time was lengthy enough to be worrying. Lelouch’s fingers drummed louder against the table, eyes skirting to the hands of his wristwatch before settling back on C.C.’s impassive face tormenting him with her lack of involvement.

“You’re the prince to a monarchy,” she started. “As soon as you say you’re engaged, the media will be all over it. You’re willing to cause a national uproar just so your mother will stop pestering you?”

“That sounds about right,” she quickly amended in an exaggerated sigh-snort that answered her own question before he could. She twisted a strand of hair around her finger like she was doing him while he didn’t have any other choice but to let her. “Why not just tell them you’re gay, though?”

“Because I’m not.” That didn’t faze him as much as C.C. had hoped. “And, either way, she’d still be pressuring me to marry. That doesn’t solve anything.”

“Neither does pretending to be engaged, really. And are you sure you’re not?”

Lelouch leveled her such a nasty glare it was enough to make even C.C. stand down. “Alright, alright, fine,” she conceded and waved the waiter down for the check. “On one condition.”

Lelouch gestured for her to continue, doubtful but helpless as she was well aware.

“You foot all pizza-related bills forever. No questions asked.”

“Deal.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lelouch.”

Lelouch let out a hard breath and finally stood to go. He was late meeting the High Eunuchs, but he’d hardly gotten a step beyond their table before he was raising an eyebrow at the outstretched hand blocking his way.

“It’s a sign of good faith,” she explained, something unnerving and particularly cat-like in her grin. “To close the contract.”

Lelouch found himself balking all of a sudden, regretting that he’d come to C.C. of all people. If there was ever a moment his life flashed before his eyes, it was then, and it was definitely  _not_  a good sign—a foreboding premonition—but in the end, he stuck out his hand anyway. This was C.C., after all. How bad could faking an engagement really be?

He took hers and shook. “…Likewise.”

**Author's Note:**

> to procrastinate......... i'm slowly............... transcribing/editing my tumblr fics to ao3........... slowly..........


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